


Cupid Doesn't Lie

by Ray_Writes



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Episode: s03e07 Draw Back Your Bow, F/M, contains Dyla and Raylicity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 17:05:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15999584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ray_Writes/pseuds/Ray_Writes
Summary: When Cupid tries a different tactic after their first meeting, Oliver must confront a truth that he's been hiding from for years.





	Cupid Doesn't Lie

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I had a plot bunny and just typed up this thing over the course of the week. No real explanation for it, except that if the Arrow writers can use Cupid to push the ship of their choice then so can I. Shout-out to colorofmymind for beta-ing this story, which allows a much better version to reach you all than if I had simply written and posted it on my own. So thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy! Let me know your thoughts on my alternate "Draw Back Your Bow"!

Carrie was unlucky in love, so it seemed. The Arrow had so far rejected her overtures, and their first meeting had been spoiled by him bringing that little sidekick of his along. She’d wanted more time to make a lasting impression, just the two of them. But instead she’d had to cut and run, leaving her hostage behind to slow her lover down so she could regroup.

How could he not see they were destined for each other? He’d saved her from certain death!

But of course, a part of her thought with chagrin, she wasn’t the only person he’d saved. Some people he’d saved countless times. And she didn’t have to search far for a name. It was contained in article after article that she’d clipped out in her search for every scrap of information she could find about her lover.

_ Dinah Laurel Lance _ .

Even back when he’d been going as the Hood, when no one in this city had even tried to understand him — not even Carrie, she could privately admit — that scheming lawyer had been right in the thick of things. She’d even been sniffing around that gym Carrie had followed the Arrow to and then had been forced to watch as he’d carried Dinah Laurel Lance out of a car wreck and to safety in his arms.

It had been Carrie who took care of the culprit for him in the end. Carrie who had made sure Isaac Stanzler had been properly punished.

So what did this  _ pretender _ have that was so special that Carrie didn’t? What made her think she owned something that wasn’t hers?

Maybe that was the problem her lover was having. He wasn’t thinking straight because there was someone standing in the way.

Well, she could take care of that.

Carrie waited in the shadows outside the gym her quarry was determined to frequent. She was staying late, which was all the better. Less witnesses meant an easier getaway. At last the door opened, and Dinah Laurel Lance made her way out into the night, totally oblivious to the arrow trained right on her heart — but something gave Carrie pause.

If she killed her rival now, she wouldn’t have the answer to just how the other woman had so thoroughly grabbed her lover’s attention. And she needed that information badly. So...perhaps simply dispatching her would have to wait.

Arrangements would have to be made to suit her newly forming plan. That visit to Kirby would have to be postponed. She switched out her arrow for a tranq dart instead, a grin spreading over her lips as she readied her shot once more. Carrie didn’t think she’d mind that at all.

—-

Waking up to harsh lights and her arms forced behind her back was something Laurel wished she didn’t have a familiarity with. She was past tolerating it, though.

With whatever time she had, she knew she needed to assess the situation. She’d been leaving Ted’s gym when something had struck her neck. Obviously whatever it had been had knocked her out so she could be moved...here. The spot felt sore, and she could tell her head was tender on the other side. Not a soft landing, then.

Her hands were cuffed behind her. Not to the chair, though, which made all the difference. Whoever she was dealing with didn’t think her much of a threat; they’d soon learn.

“Good, you’re awake,” a voice with a falsely cheerful lilt said, and Laurel looked up. “I was hoping to get a little girl talk in.”

Standing just beyond the glare of lights was a woman with red hair and a smile that wasn’t friendly.

“Who are you?”

That earned her a giggle. “I’m Cupid, stupid.”

“Cupid…” As her attacker came closer, Laurel could better make out the quiver strapped to her back and the bow hanging by her side. Her head fell back slightly to rest on the chair. “Another archer, just great.”

“You’ve had some experience with them, haven’t you?”

That gave Laurel pause. “What do you want?” She sat back up as best she could. An unfamiliar archer who had no qualms targeting the innocent. “Were you the one who killed Sara?”

The woman’s brow knitted together. “Who’s Sara?”

“My sister.”

The woman scoffed. “Oh, I don’t care about any of that.”

But it didn’t make sense. If she hadn’t been the one to kill her sister, why was this woman after her? Why did Laurel feel like she’d seen her before?

“I just care about my boyfriend,” this Cupid continued with a little smile on the end.

“Your boyfriend,” Laurel echoed for lack of anything else to say. It was best to keep her talking, unless she was planning to leave her alone for awhile, but something told Laurel escape wouldn’t be that easy.

“Don’t tell me I have to spell it out for you. Isn’t it obvious?” The woman brandished her bow about with an expectant look.

“Oh no,” Laurel blurted without thinking. This could not be happening. This had never happened, not even when there was a shred of a  _ possibility _ for a criminal that it just might work—

“Oh  _ yes _ . The Arrow. Now you understand my problem.” She imagined if there was a table to perch on, Cupid would have done so. As it was, she simply paced. “It’s not easy planning a life together when he keeps rushing off to  _ you _ . So tell me, what is it he sees in you?”

Only her good sense kept her from laughing in the other woman’s face. “Nothing. If anything, he sees something he doesn’t like and gets angry about it,” Laurel felt it fair to amend. “But nothing — let’s just say I wouldn’t call him  _ my _ boyfriend. That’s ancient history.”

Cupid didn’t even blink. “He saved you from a burning car last week.”

Laurel bit back a grimace. “That was a coincidence. He would have saved anybody.”

She didn’t even have the memory of it to really know what Cupid was talking about, having been unconscious. She only knew the after, when Oliver had offered her a ride home and told her he still cared about her despite their arguments over Ted and her training. And Laurel had hugged him because she was just so tired of fighting him, tired of being angry. They were on seemingly separate paths, but a part of her still just couldn’t let go.

This was absurd. How could she have gone from thinking she might have found Sara’s killer to  _ this _ ? Why was she even having this conversation?

“Wait. How’d you know about the car?” Laurel sat up as best as she could. “Have you been  _ following _ me?”

Cupid rolled her eyes. “I never wanted to follow  _ you _ . The Arrow is my desire.” Her face transformed into a glare. “It’s your own fault for getting in the way and stealing his heart from me!”

This woman had to be insane. Clinically. And the only way she was going to get out of this — short of some miraculous opportunity affording her the time for a mad dash to the door without getting skewered — was for her to simply accept that this was how her captor saw things and try to explain why it wasn’t the case. In as gentle of terms as possible.

“Look, I would love to help you. I really would. But you might as well let me go.” Laurel shook her head as Cupid watched her with narrowed eyes, obviously waiting for some kind of trick. “If you want to get at his heart, then you’re wasting your time. The last person the Arrow is in love with is me.”

Her eyes were on her shoes as she finished and her voice had gone quiet. That had been the only way to keep it from wavering too badly to be understood. It was one thing to know it, another to say it herself.

There was a theatrical gasp from her captor. “You really believe what you’re saying, don’t you?” The woman leaned in closer, and Laurel turned her face away. “You must be  _ heartbroken _ .”

“I’m not,” she answered with more force than she’d intended.

“Hm. Now that’s a lie. Careful, I don’t like being lied to.” Cupid straightened up again. “And you better hope my boyfriend proves you right.”

“Because then you’ll let me go?” Laurel ventured cautiously. It sounded simple enough. And she’d had more than enough practice in Oliver telling her he didn’t love her; what more could it hurt?

“Because then I don’t have to kill both of you,” Cupid answered, perfectly matter-of-fact. Then she gave that sickly sweet smile again. “And I don’t think that’s something either of us wants, is it?”

“But you love him!” Laurel protested before she could rethink yelling at the armed and mentally unhinged woman.

“I do. But if he won’t love me, I’ll make sure he won’t be loving anyone else.” Cupid took one of her arrows from her quiver, holding it in her free hand. “Good thing he doesn’t love you, right?”

He didn’t, and if it saved him maybe that was a good thing. But Oliver would be walking into a trap with this woman for her sake regardless, only Laurel didn’t see a way out of it for herself this time. Cupid had guessed her feelings; that alone was a crime to be punished by death in love and war.

—-

Oliver’s mood was going from bad to worse as the days passed, it seemed. Roy was still grappling with the knowledge of the police officer he’d killed, leaving him off his game; Felicity was beginning a something with Ray, which had only been all too inevitable once he’d turned her away even if John still seemed to think he had a chance at anything; Laurel was determined to keep training for a life that would only hurt her in the end; the only person who seemed truly interested in spending time with him at the moment was a certifiably insane woman who seemed to think killing was the best way to get his attention.

He could only be glad she hadn’t done more to Roy than knock him out when she had had the chance, but they couldn’t afford to wait for Carrie Cutter to make her next move. Of course, with Felicity on her dinner date and Roy helping Thea reopen the club tonight, that was making matters more difficult.

But those frustrations were all forgotten when the Arrow’s phone rang with a call from Lance. Hopeful for a new lead, Oliver picked it up. “ Detective? ”

“Your new girlfriend decided to leave me one of these fancy phones, too,” said Lance. He sounded rattled. “And according to her, if I ever wanna see my daughter again, I’m supposed to get it to you.”

“ Laurel. ” Oliver’s grip on the phone tightened so much it was a wonder it didn’t snap. How could Cutter have known to target Laurel?

But it hit him: of all his friends, it was Laurel who was publicly associated with his vigilante alter ego. Cutter didn’t have to know his identity to use that against him.

John had looked up with a frown when Oliver had said her name, but it was Lance who spoke. “I have no idea what she wants, what her terms are. The note she left with the phone says if anybody but you tries to call her she’s gonna kill Laurel. And I know she’s not bluffing cause Laurel’s not home or at that gym she’s been going to. You know I don’t like to negotiate with these crazies, but...” The man trailed off helplessly.

“ I’m on my way. ” He hung up and went for the case holding his gear.

“What’s wrong with Laurel?” John asked.

“Cutter took her. She must have realized I know her.”

“No, you know a lot of people,” John said with a shake of his head. “She’s figured out  _ this _ one touches a nerve. It’s a trap, Oliver, one you shouldn’t get yourself into. I’ll get Roy.”

“Roy is busy. And so is Felicity, John, before you suggest her help.”

“She’d make time for you,” John insisted.

“She shouldn’t have to.” He couldn’t ask her to do that anymore than he could blame her for making the right choice for herself. Association with him was dangerous; Laurel was proof that it left a mark no matter if there was a relationship or not. 

Just a few short nights ago he’d held her in his arms, safe and secure. Now she was at the mercy of one of his enemies. For all he kept trying to dissuade her from entering the field, he still failed to protect her.

“I’m just not sure you’re thinking with a clear head right now, man,” Diggle told him.

“I know what I have to do, Digg.” 

He changed and was leaving the base within five minutes. Lance was waiting out behind the precinct, and Oliver wasted no time in holding his hand out for the phone. He turned away from the man and dialed.

Cutter picked up on the second ring. “Who is it?” She trilled.

“ _ You know who it is, _ ” said Oliver, already fed up with the woman’s games. “ _ Where is Laurel Lance? _ ”

“With me, silly, you know that.”

“ _ And where is that? _ ”

“You want to come see me? It’ll have to be alone. Captain Lance and your little friends aren’t invited.”

“ _ Fine. Where do you want to meet, Carrie? _ ” 

“You know the place. Our special spot.” She gave a short laugh that quickly cut off, and her tone turned to steel. “But you listen to me, lover. I've been burned before. And if you're playing me, I promise you, I will kill her in an instant.”

With that, she hung up.

“Well?” Lance asked as he lowered the phone.

“ _ I have to meet her alone. Wait here, Detective. _ ”

“Hey, wait!”

Oliver shot a grappling hook and traveled up to the rooftop, leaving Lance behind. He traveled from building to building further into downtown. There was only one place he knew of that Cutter would consider special to the both of them; the place where he’d saved her from a Mirakuru soldier, just outside the subway station.

There was no one waiting on the street when he got there, but the lights were on inside. He ziplined from across the street onto the roof of the building that housed the entrance to the subway station. There was a small window set high off the ground, so Oliver rappelled down the side with another grappling hook arrow to get a look inside. What he saw nearly made his heart stop.

Laurel was sitting in a chair, hands bound together and utterly defenseless as Cutter paced back and forth in front of her. There was an arrow in her hand ready to nock on the bow in her other. Ready to pierce Laurel through, ready to rip her from the world just as violently as Sara. His fear come to life despite all his efforts.

Oliver worked to even out his suddenly ragged breaths as he thought through his options. A surprise attack wasn’t feasible; the windows were old and would creak if he tried to pry them open to get a shot. Shooting through the glass would be an even bigger giveaway, and Cutter would have time to get off a shot of her own before he could fire his second arrow.

He spoke into his comm. “Digg, you there?”

“ _ Yeah _ .”

“ _ Me too, _ ” said Felicity, and he frowned. Digg had pulled her from her date for this. “ _ Did you find Cupid? _ ”

“Yes.”

“ _ So what’s the plan? _ ” Diggle asked over the comm.

“I go in alone.”

“ _ Oliver, I really think you should wait for Roy _ .”

“Laurel doesn’t have that kind of time.” Cutter had wanted a meeting just between them, and she was too close and too prepared to strike at Laurel to risk any kind of trick. He would have to go in and talk the woman down. He could only hope he was more successful than Cutter’s therapist had been.

Oliver descended to the ground, then walked around to the door. He opened it just a crack, as silently as he could manage.

“...any minute now,” Cutter was saying, whether to Laurel or herself he could only guess. Then she spun on her heel to face her hostage. “And I would give serious thought to saying anything when he does get here.”

“Why? You’re killing me anyway,” Laurel said, and Oliver’s heart missed another beat.

“Well, how painful do you want it?”

That was enough. He shouldered the door open the full way, and both women looked towards him. There was a cut and some bruising on one side of Laurel’s face, but she was aware. It still left him feeling guilt and anger all at once; this was happening to her because of him, but he would get her out of it.

Cutter’s lips were curved in a smile. “Hello, lover.”

Oliver switched over to the voice modulator and his reply was a growl, “ _ Not your lover _ .”

“Because you’re hers?”

He stopped in his tracks.  _ That’s _ what this was about? Laurel’s lips were pressed tight together and her eyes were fixed on the wall behind him. This was the last place either of them wanted to be or the last conversation they wanted to have.

“ _ No. She has no part in this, Carrie _ ,” Oliver tried to reason. If he could secure a way for Laurel to get out of danger, then he could focus on catching the murderer in front of him. “ _ This is about you and me, like you said _ .”

“You’re so right,” Cutter agreed with a smirk. Then she drew the arrow back on her bow and held it there, pointed at Laurel.

Oliver stepped forward. “ _ Hey! _ ”

“Well, if she’s not a part of this, we don’t really need her anymore, do we?”

Laurel stared the arrow down, unflinching and showing no hint of the fear she had to be feeling. But this was something she’d done so many times before, and so many times it was his fault.

Unbidden, an image of her on the table in the base with that same arrow embedded in her chest and her eyes open and unseeing rose to his mind. His knees trembled for a moment, only just managing to hold his weight. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the panic down.  _ Not her,  _ it  _ couldn’t _ be her.

“ _ Carrie. If you really know me at all, you know that’s not what I do. There’s no justice in this. _ ”

“But she loves you,” Cutter said, an audible pout in her voice.

Oliver shook his head. “ _ She doesn’t. _ ”

Cutter’s head tilted. “Interesting. You’re not lying, either.”

“ _ What does she mean, ‘either’? _ ” Felicity’s voice asked, and he only narrowly stopped himself from flinching. He’d almost forgotten about the open communication line.

It was a fair question. He wanted to ask but knew the situation was resting on a razor point as it was. Anything unnecessary would have to wait. And Cutter still had Laurel at arrow point.

“ _ Are you satisfied? _ ”

“Oh, not nearly,” Cutter replied with a smirk he was beginning to loathe. “Do one thing for me?”

He grimaced but said, “ _ Name it _ .”

“Tell me she doesn’t mean a thing to you. That you don’t care about her.” The string of Cutter’s bow was trembling with the strain of holding the arrow back, the arrow that was still aimed directly at Laurel’s heart. “You don’t love her.”

He could do that. To save her, he could do almost anything — and if Cutter wanted him to deny that, too, he would. Gladly, if it meant Laurel’s life.

He had done this before, even, and to a much shrewder opponent. But he had needed Slade Wilson to believe, if only for the short term, because he wouldn’t have been able to think straight if it had been Laurel in his enemy’s grasp like now. So he’d lied.

Oliver’s mouth opened, but he found himself frozen, incapable of speech. A cold sweat broke out on his brow and his mouth ran dry as his mind stuck on a single thought:  _ he had lied _ .

Lied when he’d fallen back on selfish choices with Sara instead of trying to build something real with Laurel. Lied when he’d turned his back in that hallway and on the pledge he’d upheld those five years on the island to make things right between them. Lied every time he had tried to push her further and further away because it had been easier than risking his whole heart—

_ The only person you're fooling is yourself. _

John had been so right and yet so very,  _ very _ wrong. Oliver was not in love with Felicity; that had always been the lie.

He was in love with Laurel Lance.

“I’m waiting,” said Cutter, an edge creeping into her voice. 

Laurel was, too. He could see her chest rise and fall with each breath, confusion in her eyes as the seconds stretched on and he said nothing.

Why wasn’t he saying anything?

“ _ I… _ ”

“ _ Say it. Oliver, say it, _ ” John was urging him.

“ _ I can’t, _ ” he uttered, no more than a whisper.

The silence on the other end of the comms was louder than words would have been.

“What was that?” Cutter asked.

He didn’t know what to do. The truth would kill Laurel; lying would as well. There was no third option. He was frozen in a moment, and he had  _ nothing _ .

“He doesn’t,” Laurel answered for him, tense and looking at Cutter, who turned her neck towards her again.

“That’s for him to say.”

“But he doesn’t,” she insisted, sounding so sure. How had he let that happen? “He can’t. He’s only hesitating because he’s worried you’ll kill me after.”

“Because he cares about you. Loves you,” Cutter reasoned.

“Because he cares about people, not for  _ me _ ,” Laurel argued, her voice breaking on the last word. There were tears shining in her eyes from the harsh light cast over her. “Not because he loves me!”

“ _ Laurel— _ ”

“I know he doesn’t! He…” Laurel’s eyes had jumped from Cutter’s to his, and whatever she’d been about to say died in her throat. 

He could tell the exact moment she realized, could see it in her eyes. Disbelief and shock giving way to a brief flicker of something  _ soft _ — and then despair.

Laurel’s lips formed soundlessly around his name.  _ Ollie. _ Her head shook once, as if that alone would cause Oliver to remember his denial.

But now that the truth was out, he couldn’t forget it. Not again. Why had he done it? Why had he wasted so much time, put her through so much pain, just to realize what he’d known all along?

“ _ I’m sorry. _ ”

Cutter let loose a nasty laugh. “A pair of hopeless lovebirds! Never dreaming they carried the key to the other’s heart. How  _ sweet _ .” Acid dripped from her tone. “Why don’t I help you with a couple of Cupid’s arrows?”

“ _ Oliver, Oliver, we need a plan. _ ” John was back, whatever his thoughts on what had been said unknown.

Laurel was more direct. “Go. Get out of here!”

“I don’t think so. Loverboy first!” Cutter whirled to face him, a snarl on her lips and her hand releasing the arrow— 

His dodge, it turned out, was unnecessary; her shot went wide when Laurel aimed a hard kick at the back of the archer’s legs.

Oliver wasted no time in firing a net arrow which his opponent staggered into. Laurel had dropped off the chair, legs tucked into her body as she forced her arms under and around them. It left her at her most vulnerable, which Cutter, still only a few feet from her, seemed to notice.

A flechette slid out of her sleeve and into her palm as she turned her back on him again. Oliver fired a grapple arrow, catching the end of her coat and pinning it to the floor. Cutter was forced to a knee but soon ripped her clothes free.

With her other hand she was already using the sharp end of the flechette to slice through the bonds of the net, but, before Oliver could take more than two steps forward, Laurel was back on her feet, cuffed hands in front of her which she swung right at Cutter’s head.

The woman went down, and Oliver was wrenching the flechette from her fingers before she could get over her initial daze.

“She saved you,” Cutter mumbled. “How about that?

Oliver’s head lifted, and he and Laurel shared a look full of apprehension. There was so much that demanded saying, but none of it could be done in front of Cutter.

He licked his lips and gave a try anyway. “ _ Grant teach you that one? _ ”

A breath escaped Laurel, not quite a laugh, and her shoulders relaxed.

The distant sound of a siren registered as it grew louder and louder. Someone must have tipped Lance off to their location.

Oliver returned his attention to Cutter, but she had fallen unconscious. Only minutes ago she had held the power to take one of the most important people in his life from him, and now she lay helpless by his feet. He knew he should feel sorry for the woman and the condition she couldn’t help that drove her to such extremes. Cutter had even appealed to the similarities between them at their first meeting.

Maybe two years ago her argument might have stuck. But where Oliver had worked to control his own darker impulses, Cutter had allowed her madness free reign. Because of her refusal to accept the truth a man was dead, and Laurel had nearly suffered the same fate. It was hard to let go of the anger that thought inspired, particularly when he had nowhere to direct it as Cutter was in no condition to listen.

But Oliver also knew decisions needed to be made fast. He switched off the voice modulator. “Can you explain to your father what happened?”

Laurel nodded. “Might leave out some details, but sure. You should go.”

“I’ll take Cutter with me.”

“What? Why?”

“ARGUS should be able to use her. And I don’t think prison will do her mental state any favors.”

“I’m not sure there’s anything that can,” Laurel muttered, arms crossing over her chest. Privately he agreed with her. But ARGUS was far more capable of holding their prisoners than the police. And Cutter’s inside knowledge of the SCPD made her especially dangerous to entrust with them. The last thing he wanted was for her to break out and seek new revenge against Laurel.

Oliver lingered still. It didn’t feel right to leave Laurel behind, not with what had just occurred here.

The slam of a police cruiser’s door outside decided things for him, however. “I’ll double back as soon as I can.”

“Yeah,” said Laurel, not quite looking at him. “See you.”

With that, he hefted Cutter up from the ground and made for the back exit. He’d have to use the time apart from Laurel to think of what he needed to say.

A part of Oliver wasn’t sure there was enough time in the world to figure that out.

—-

John wasn’t sure he’d ever believe what just happened.

Oliver had refused to say he didn’t love Laurel. It was like they’d all jumped back two years. What was he  _ thinking _ ?

Felicity hadn’t said a word as it had all unfolded. She’d stared straight ahead, face a blank mask of calm. Only once it became clear Cutter had been apprehended had she spoken, though not over the comm.

“Captain Lance should be there soon. I was able to pinpoint the address from Oliver’s tracker and send it to him.” She’d pushed her chair back with the clear intent to leave.

“Felicity,” he’d began, not sure where he was going with it but knowing he had to try.

“John, it’s okay.” Her smile had been a poor imitation of her best, but her eyes had remained dry. “I knew. We all knew. I just — I should go.”

She’d probably gone straight back to Palmer. Man, Oliver had really blown things.

He didn’t beat around the bush in telling him so when he got back from dropping off Cutter.

“When I said I didn’t think you were thinking straight, it wasn’t exactly this I thought would happen. Something like it, maybe, but even I thought you had enough sense.”

“John, I do not want to talk about it right now.”

“Well that’s too bad, Oliver. Cause Felicity heard everything.” He watched his friend wince and crossed his arms. “So what are you going to do about that?”

“I don’t know. Was she upset?”

“Went back to Palmer.”

Oliver absorbed that information. “Well...good.” He turned and opened the glass case to start setting his gear inside.

“Good?” John repeated, wanting to be sure he’d heard right.

“I told you I wanted her to be happy. Palmer can do that for her.”

“And not you?”

“I think we all know that.”

“That’s cause you haven’t tried, man. But you want her to be happy because you love her.”

The wearied calm broke, and Oliver whirled around. “No! That was the lie I told Slade.  _ You _ were the one who insisted it was true, John. Not me.” The hard resolve in his eyes faded. “But maybe I wanted to believe you, because it was better than knowing I’d used her. She’s my friend and my teammate, and I do care about her, John, but I used her as  _ bait _ . That’s not love.”

“And what you have with Laurel is? A lot of people would say you’ve used her, too.” Oliver frowned, but John wasn’t done. “I’ve watched you try to get over her for two years.”

“Yeah, ‘try’ being the key word. All those relationships accomplished was letting me run from something I knew would be hard. But I made myself a promise when I was stranded on that island, John,” Oliver said. “A promise to make things right with Laurel. And giving up on that has been my mistake, but I can’t keep lying to myself about it.”

“Well, what if you give up again? How many times can you put Laurel through this?” He had to ask. “Knowing you have feelings is one thing, Oliver, but how does it solve all the problems between you?”

“I don’t have those answers. I don’t know what to tell you,” Oliver replied. “Being honest with myself doesn’t mean I’m expecting a relationship.”

“So you’re just planning to be alone the rest of your life?” Why was he so determined to just punish himself over and over?

“It’s better than using someone else to feel less alone. I did it with Sara and McKenna and Helena...but I’m never going to be able to commit myself to someone else. Not fully. And that’s not fair to expect that to be good enough.” Oliver drew in a breath and released it. Despite the gloomy prospects he’d outlined for himself, he didn’t look depressed. There was an inner peace in the way he held himself. “I have to go see Laurel.”

John shook his head but held his tongue. If Oliver didn’t want his advice, he wasn’t going to waste his breath giving it.

He did have a lot to say about it once he got home, pacing their kitchen and occasionally having to check his volume so he didn’t risk waking Sara.

“He and Felicity could have had something nice. Now we’ll never know. But I can’t see something nice coming out of him and Laurel giving things another shot. They’ve tried it, and things didn’t work out. Now they’re gonna try it again all because they nearly died together?”

“Sounds like us when you put it that way,” Lyla remarked wryly.

John’s mouth snapped shut. When he opened it again, he was scowling. “That’s not funny.”

“I’m not trying to be. I’m just pointing out that it’s not unheard of for people who split up to find each other again. People change. They learn from their mistakes.”

“So you think they should get back together? That Felicity should just let Palmer charm her with his million dollar necklaces?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think.” Lyla turned off the stove and faced him. “You need to let them make their own choices, Johnny. Not force something you want to happen because you think it’d make your friends happy.”

“Oh, so wanting my friends to be happy makes me the bad guy?” He couldn’t help grouching.

“No. Just makes you stubborn,” she corrected with a smirk. John sighed and took the plates out to the table.

Lyla was quick to follow with the meal.

“Now, Oliver’s just as stubborn, so you’ll have to let him see this through. And as for Felicity, from everything I’ve heard she’s doing pretty good right now. This Palmer is interested in her, values her input. He promoted her from secretary to Vice President.”

John grudgingly had to admit that was an improvement. Felicity had always hated that secretary job.

“Maybe she falls in love with Palmer. Maybe she doesn’t. It doesn’t have to be the great love of her life, and neither does Oliver.” Lyla shrugged. “You told me she hasn’t had a serious boyfriend since that college hacker. She’s young and still trying to figure out who she is and what she wants.”

“And I need to let her do that,” he guessed.

“It’s a good thing you’re smarter than you are stubborn, Johnny.”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Guess that’s how we made it work this time.”

“We got there in the end,” she agreed, leaning in to share a kiss.

John resolved to put all the rest of it out of his mind for the night; only time would tell if Oliver and Laurel could pull off their own little miracle.

—-

She had no idea how late it was by the time she made it back to her apartment, but Laurel still couldn’t sleep. She’d waved off staying a night at either the hospital or her father’s, as well as his suggestion of posting a guard outside her building.

“I know you’re worried, but I think I’ll be good for the night. It’s not like I’ve ever been kidnapped twice in a twenty-four hour period.”

“Well twice in less than a week is pretty close,” he’d pointed out.

Laurel had talked him down eventually. And she was glad she had refused supervision when there came a knock at her door. Laurel checked in the peephole first, but her instincts were right: Oliver stood on the other side.

She drew in a breath and then pulled the door open. “Hey.”

“Hey.” His voice was soft with his nerves, and it took him a moment to ask, “Is it okay if I come in?”

“Yeah.” She stood aside and watched as he naturally made his way to the sitting room. He stopped there, however, clearly unsure whether to sit or not. Laurel gestured to the couch and took her own seat in the chair across. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

“That’s putting things simply.” Oliver perched on the edge of his cushion, hunched slightly forward. He could spring back up to his feet in a second if he wanted. She didn’t blame him; a part of her was terrified to have this conversation.

Oliver began eventually nonetheless. “So...what happened.”

“You mean me getting kidnapped because a mentally unstable woman was convinced I stole you from her or you refusing to tell her you aren’t in love with me?”

“The latter is probably more important right now.” Oliver drew in a breath, his eyes dropping to his hands folded together. “Laurel, I wasn’t refusing to tell her something. I was refusing to lie. Because I realized something tonight that I’d been trying to run from for a while.” He looked back up at her. “And that was my feelings for you.”

A dim part of her knew this was the part in every film where the two lovers came together, where a younger girl — her hair a deep brown, a sparkle to her eyes that had never seen a bad day — would push past the obstacles between them and capture his lips in a searing kiss for the ages. But she was older now and more tired if not any wiser. She also really liked that decorative bowl on her coffee table and wasn’t about to risk smashing it. 

But mostly, she was hearing the words as if they  _ were _ up on a screen separate from her. It didn’t seem like it could be a real moment, not in her life.

He seemed to guess at some of her inner turmoil. “You looked pretty upset about that at the subway station.”

“I wasn’t—” Laurel stopped and looked off to the side at the candles in her fireplace. “She told me she’d kill you if you didn’t answer the way she wanted.”

“Oh.” Oliver took a few moments to absorb that while Laurel continued to stare into the flames. “So you’re not upset. About me still...”

She shrugged. “It’s your feelings. You’re allowed to have them.”

“Cutter seemed to think it was a mutual feeling.”

She knew what he was trying to get at, the words he wanted to hear from her. Laurel didn’t know if she could take that leap of faith again. Not after crashing so many times.

“Why are you convinced you’re still in love with me?” She asked instead, turning sharply to face him. “Because I was pretty sure I got the right message last year.”

His head bowed again. “Laurel, if I could take back some of the things I said, I would. All I can do now is say that I’m sorry.”

She knew that, the same as she knew that she’d already forgiven him for it. Laurel couldn’t even count the things she wished she could take back from the last year.

Oliver wasn’t done. “When I came back from the island, I thought things would be easier. That I could finish my father’s mission and be done with it, and then I could focus on my family, and on you most of all. But that’s not what happened. I failed. And the consequences of my failure are affecting the city to this day. The things that I’d sworn to achieve on the island seemed impossible, and that...it left me angry. At myself, at all the things that were going wrong. It wasn’t something for me to take out on you, but I did and I’m sorry.”

“I wasn’t exactly the best friend to you last year, either.”

He shook his head. “I expected you to support me when I couldn’t even tell you what I needed support for. That wasn’t fair. Maybe if I’d been honest, things wouldn’t be like this between us now.”

That was a tempting thought. If she’d known what Oliver had been struggling with when he returned the previous year, would she have felt it wrong to continue what they’d started before the Undertaking? Was there even a point to wondering when that just wasn’t their reality?

“So what are things between us?”

Oliver sat back, thinking over his words. “I know how I feel. This is it for me, Laurel. I’m done trying to find you in another person. But I can understand if I’m not the person you want.”

She still hadn’t given a definitive answer. Maybe that wasn’t fair to him, but there was still so much to hesitate over. And even if Oliver had changed his mind about how he felt for her, that didn’t necessarily change his mind about how he felt for what she was doing.

“I don’t want to just be someone’s girlfriend or the woman everyone knows the hero will rush in to save. That’s not all that I am.” Her arms crossed over her chest, bracing for the argument that was sure to follow her next words. “And I can’t even think about being with someone who won’t respect that.”

Oliver’s eyes squeezed shut. “Laurel, I do respect you.”

“How can you say that when you won’t respect my choices? When you don’t think I’m capable?”

“It’s not about being capable! I  _ know _ you could be capable with more training.” His expression turned hard and cold as stone. “But Sara was capable, and she was killed.  _ I _ could be killed any night I go out there no matter how capable I am.”

“And you think that doesn’t scare me? That it wouldn’t hurt me to lose you?” She stood up, rounding the coffee table. “It’s something I’ve thought about every night since I ever learned you were the Arrow! But I have never asked you to stop, because I know this is something you need to do.”

“But why does it have to be something  _ you _ need to do?” It sounded more like pleading than a challenge as he looked up at her with those wide, blue eyes.

“Because I know myself. Because I know what will happen if I don’t.” Laurel stopped and drew in a breath. “When Sara was gone the first time, when we all thought you were both dead, I stopped feeling. I went through life, but I walled myself off from everyone. All the pain and the loss was kept inside of me. For five years.”

He knew all this, yet he didn’t seem bored or frustrated by the repetition. No, Laurel thought at last Oliver was really listening.

“And after a while, after we lost Tommy, it got to be too much.” She shrugged one shoulder. “So I did get hurt, but I was the one who was hurting me. Because I didn’t have an outlet. And I’m not saying that losing my sister again — I never want to go back to that part of my life. No matter what happens to me or who I lose.” Her hand came to rest on her chest. “But I can’t keep holding this inside me. It has to have somewhere to go.”

Oliver stared at her, a realization dawning on his face. “Boxing’s your outlet.”

“ _ Yes _ .” She thought she felt something ease inside her. He understood. Laurel dropped onto the couch on the side furthest from him. “I asked you to train me because I didn’t want to make the same mistakes I made last year.”

His shoulders slumped. “And I didn’t want to train you because I was scared of making a mistake. That it’d be you I’d have to bury.”

Laurel watched him, the shadows under his eyes and the lines that were faint yet creeping in. “Do you think about that a lot?”

“I see it in my sleep most nights,” he admitted in a low tone. “And it’s not something I ever want to prepare for.”

Laurel scooted just a little closer to lay a hand on his arm. “I can’t make you any promises, Ollie. Just like you can’t make me any. But the criminals of this city don’t care if I’m a civilian or not. I’m a part of this fight either way, and it’s time for me to fight back.”

His eyes had fallen to the carpet, and he gave a miserable little nod.

“I’d rather fight with you than against you,” she added.

Oliver’s other arm lifted, and he placed his hand over hers. “Me too.” Then he shifted, his body turning towards her as he took both her hands. “If this is something you have to do, then I’ll do my best to respect that. I just wish things didn’t have to be this way. That they were simpler.”

“The way we used to be,” she said, her wistful tone an echo of what she saw in his eyes.

“Laurel, I do love you.” It was the first time he’d spoken those exact words tonight, ambiguity abandoned in a single moment. “I don’t know that it makes up for everything that’s happened, and it’s far less than what you deserve. But it’s true and it’s real, and I’m never going to deny it again.”

Was there a point to holding herself apart from him? It wasn’t a question of falling; she’d done that years ago.

She leaned across the foot of space separating them, laying her head on his shoulder as her arms settled around his waist. He was still for a moment, then his legs shifted apart to give him room to pull her in closer.

“It’s a start,” Laurel said on a sigh. Her eyes closed as she let herself grow comfortable with the feel of him again. It was a moment she didn’t want to leave.

After this moment would come decisions, and she didn’t know which were the right ones. She was grieving. Sara’s killer needed to be brought to justice. Those were things she couldn’t let go of, not even for Oliver. It would be selfish of her to give up on avenging her sister for a relationship.

And yet, she couldn’t let go of him, either. That was probably selfish, too. Oliver didn’t deserve the anguish that raged under the surface of her skin, the numbness that seemed to live in her heart with so many pieces carved out of it.

He rubbed the small of her back, lips pressing to her forehead for the briefest moment. A shaky breath left her, too tired for a sob. It couldn’t last; it never did.

But they could stay here, like this, if only for tonight.

—-

Oliver wasn’t immediately sure of his surroundings. That wasn’t a normal occurrence for him; it usually meant he was returning to consciousness after being overpowered in a fight. But the lethargy in his limbs didn’t speak of soreness or discomfort, and capture didn’t usually come with a warm, familiar body draped over his own.

Laurel’s head was tucked under his chin, fitting against him with the rightness he remembered and had dreamed of on the island. They’d fallen asleep with the lamps on, and in their warm glow she looked serene, the worries of the years forgotten in sleep. She was so beautiful.

But that wasn’t what had woken him up.

His phone buzzed again in the pocket of his jeans, and Oliver struggled to sit up better on the couch without disturbing her. With care, he was able to retrieve the device and picked up just in time.

“Hello?”

“Hey, where are you?” Thea’s voice asked. “It’s five in the morning.”

He pulled the phone back to check the time. “What are you doing up?”

A soft mumble left Laurel, and he quickly brought the phone back up to his ear.

Thea didn’t seem to have caught the noise. “I just got back from the club. Opening night, you know, lot of stuff to sort through after we closed. So when are you getting home?”

“Uhh, not too sure, Speedy.”

Laurel’s head turned, face scrunched up adorably and eyes still closed. His sister’s name left her lips slow and slurred. “Thhheaa?”

Too loud. Oliver held his breath.

“That’s Laurel,” said Thea, not a question.

“Yep,” Oliver agreed.

“Okay, never mind me. Bye.” His sister hung up before he could even begin to formulate an explanation. That was going to be a tricky conversation to navigate whenever he got around to it.

Laurel was definitely close to waking up, her eyelids fluttering as a yawn left her.

He rubbed her arm, but paused when he felt the muscle there. Laurel had never been weak, but her training with Grant was showing.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever felt my arm up before,” she remarked, voice still groggy with sleep.

“Just admiring your progress.”

Laurel peered up at him. “What time is it?”

“A little past five.”

“Mm.” She pushed herself off his chest and ran a hand through her hair to get it out of her face. “No point falling back asleep.”

She staggered up to her feet, eyes still half-closed, and he had to hold in a laugh. “What are you doing?”

“I should start getting ready for work.”

Oliver‘s bemused grin faded. She always pushed herself so hard. “You were held hostage last night. Can’t you call in a personal day?”

“Wish I could, but I need to get some files together to hand over to the defense. Not fair to keep them waiting.” She looked to him and sighed, sitting back down beside him. “And it’s not fair to keep you waiting.”

“If you need time to decide how you really feel about this, that’s okay,” he told her.

Laurel shook her head. “I know how I feel. I’ve known for years.” In that direct way of hers, she continued, “Oliver, you’re the love of my life. You are always going to be that.”

Another man might have been over the moon. He knew her well enough, though. “But.”

Laurel’s lips twitched. “ _ But _ , I just don’t see how this can work.”

“Why not?”

“Sara. It’s been barely a month since we lost her.”

“I know,” he agreed. It seemed both too short and too long a time. “But I don’t see why we can’t help each other through that. Build something good together. Find some kind of happiness.”

She sighed, her gaze dropping to her hands in her lap. “I don’t know if I know how to be happy anymore, Ollie. I don’t even know if I should let myself be.”

She really believed that. Oliver reached over and took her hands. “Laurel, if anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you. And I don’t think Sara would want you to deny yourself that out of grief. She loved you.”

Her eyes were still lowered but he could see the wet sheen to them as her lips pressed together.

“We’re not going to make the same mistakes we have in the past. No more lying, to ourselves or each other. And this time we have each other to rely on. I don’t want to watch you struggle with this alone, Laurel. It’s okay to let people in. It’s okay to keep living. Trust me when I say survival is not enough.”

Laurel looked up at him at last. “I have to find her killer.”

“And we’ll do that together. If you have to train, we’ll do that, too.”

She froze. “You would do that?”

“If it makes you happy, yes.” Laurel’s expression didn’t change, and he had a moment of doubt. “Unless you’d prefer to keep training with Grant.”

“Well, I’m not going to stop training with Ted, but there’s things I can learn from you, too.” Her mouth pulled down into a frown as she asked, “Do you really think we can have both? A relationship and justice for Sara?”

It was a variation on the question he’d been wrestling with for months. Oliver needed an answer now. “For a while, I thought that being the Arrow meant there wasn’t room for a life of my own. When Sara died, I took it as a sign that the path I’m on, it doesn’t lead anywhere good.”

Laurel waited, never interrupting even as he paused to gather his thoughts.

“But being the Arrow can’t stop me from caring about the people in my life. You, Thea, the team. It’s not separate. If last night with Cutter showed me anything, it’s that a person I love can be taken from me whether I allow myself that love or not. And if I die tonight or the next or three years from now, what is the life I’ll have wanted to leave behind?”

“But is it a good idea to jump into something because we’re scared?”

“I don’t know. Are we holding back because we’re scared?”

Between the two of them, they didn’t seem to have an easy answer.

“If we try this,” Laurel began eventually, “I think we should start small. Not an open relationship, just not—”

“Official?” He guessed.

She nodded. “And maybe we should keep it to ourselves at first. Until we’re sure.”

He grimaced. “Digg and Felicity were on the comms last night. And Thea called this morning and was able to figure out where I was.”

Laurel’s eyes squeezed shut. “Okay, there goes that plan.”

“Laurel, that doesn’t mean we have to do anything. I don’t care what the others think. I just want what’s best for you and me. Whatever you think that is.”

She took one hand away from his and laid it on his cheek. Laurel’s eyes opened, and he held his breath as they searched his face for something. Her lips parted—

Somewhere off down the hall a shrill ringing noise started up.

Laurel’s hand fell to his shoulder where she gripped on for a moment. “And that’s my work alarm.” 

He tried not to let any disappointment show on his face. “I should let you get ready.”

Laurel began to rise again from the couch, but she stopped herself. “I’ll come see you after. The Verdant?”

“Yeah, we’ll be there.”

“Okay.” There was a pause as he watched some conflict play out over her features. She leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. “We’ll talk soon.”

“Okay.”

She disappeared down the hall to shut off her alarm, and Oliver slowly stood and let himself out of the apartment. He needed to give Laurel her space to think things over.

Oliver skipped heading back to the loft, instead going straight to the base. He had a set of workout clothes there and a desire to let his mind go totally blank for a while. Sleeping was an impossibility when he’d only be tossing and turning as he wondered what Laurel would decide. They both knew what they wanted, but was that enough to surmount the problems they faced?

He was only alone for the first half hour. As he finished his target practice, Roy came down the steps.

“Hey, Digg filled me in on what happened last night. Laurel okay?”

Oliver set his bow and quiver aside. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there. You know you can call me, right?”

“I know. But you made a commitment to Thea to be there for her last night. And I know you’ve been dealing with a lot lately.”

“Yeah.” Roy nodded. “But if you can still believe in me, then I’m not ready to give up on this.”

“Good.” Oliver went over to the mat and selected two sets of sticks. He tossed one to Roy, who caught it but didn’t immediately move to join him.

“Digg, uh, mentioned what you couldn’t say. About Laurel.”

Oliver rolled his eyes. He should’ve figured that was going to get out. He’d have preferred it be on his terms, though.

“So are you two…” Roy trailed off, clearly waiting for him to fill in the rest.

“We don’t know.”

Roy seemed to sense that was the most he wanted to discuss it, and he stepped onto the mat.

Sometime after they took a break for lunch, John came in. “I asked Lyla to keep us updated on how Cutter’s fitting in.”

“That’s good.”

To his surprise, it was all his friend had to say about the previous night. Oliver had been bracing for a continuation of their argument, but for whatever reason John seemed to have made his peace with it.

Some hours later as a pair of heels descended the steps, it occurred to him John shouldn’t have been the teammate he was most worried about.

“You’re here early,” Roy remarked.

“Ray gave me a half day since I helped him close the deal last night,” Felicity explained. She seemed no less composed than usual, but she had yet to look at Oliver.

He knew it wouldn’t be right to leave things at that. She deserved an explanation.

Oliver moved to intercept her before she could put up a wall of screens. “Hey, I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

She stopped. “Funny that you would consider that now.”

He winced. “I didn’t mean for things to happen the way they did. Or to hurt you.”

“Well, I won’t say it didn’t sting a little. When you called things off last month, I didn’t really believe your excuse. It felt like there was more holding you back than just not wanting me in danger. And now we both know what it was,” she said. “I’m just glad that we stopped before anything got too serious.”

“I still care about you,” he told her. “You’re a friend and a valued member of the team, and if there’s ever anything you want to tell me, I am here for you.”

Felicity nodded. He doubted it sounded like much in the face of whatever pain she was feeling, but he knew he had to try.

“Ray kissed me last night,” she blurted just as he took a step back.

Oliver paused and blinked. “Did he?”

“Yeah. It was...very sweet.” She was smiling, a light blush to her cheeks. “So I think I’m going to see where that goes.”

“Good. I’m happy for you. Ray...he seems good for you.”

“He’s open, I think is the thing. Everything is very straightforward with Ray. I like that. I don’t do complicated well, and Oliver, you are complicated.”

She had him there. “Well, I’m glad you’re figuring out what you want.”

She nodded once. “You too.” Felicity took the last couple steps around him to her computers and sat down.

He had to stop himself heaving a sigh of relief. Somehow they’d navigated a path that didn’t leave either one of them unhappy. Lord knew what he’d done to deserve Palmer’s timely intervention, but for once Oliver was grateful to the man.

The hour grew later and with it grew his agitation. He knew Laurel tended to stay late at the office, but he’d been hoping tonight would be an exception. Oliver was only half-listening as the others discussed a police report about a man found dead from a boomerang attack. And he was far slower to suit up than usual.

“We waiting for something?” John asked.

Before he could answer, the door opened for a fourth time.

“Hey, sorry. Things ran a little long at the office.” Laurel had a bag with her that he assumed carried the clothes she worked out in. “You heading out?”

“Just to collect some evidence. Shouldn’t take long. Did you want to start training here tonight?”

In his periphery, he was fairly sure the others were exchanging surprised looks at that.

Laurel nodded. “If that’s okay. If you’re going to be busy, though, I can just head to Ted’s.”

“No, I should have time.” He knew Laurel wanted to continue at Wildcat’s gym as well as here, but he was loathe to send her away when they had yet to resolve where they stood with one another. “We’ll have to analyze the evidence here before we get any leads.”

“Okay. I’ll just change and warm up till you get back,” she decided, her lips curving up into a smile at the end.

He found himself smiling back. “Great.” Oliver laid his hand on her arm briefly, wanting even just that little bit of contact before he left. 

But as he made to turn away, Laurel reached out, her hand snagging the strap of his quiver.

“I think you were right,” she said quieter. “About living instead of surviving. And I don’t know if I’m any good at it, but I’m willing to try.”

“That’s fine.” He closed his hand over hers. “Trying is more than fine.”

Laurel took a step closer, her eyes never leaving his, and closed the distance between their lips.

It was not the passion of a young and frantic love, but the meeting of two old friends; two parts of a whole coming together with the single, shared sigh:  _ finally. _

They broke apart, Oliver swaying towards her just slightly as she pulled away to catch one last brush of his mouth against hers. There was nothing reserved about the smile she wore now; Laurel was happy. More importantly, she was letting herself be.

“That wasn’t a bad try,” he couldn’t resist remarking. Her head shook as her grin only grew, and he couldn’t stop himself drifting nearer again.

“I don’t want to keep your team waiting,” she whispered, stopping him with a hand on his chest.

Right, the team. He turned back towards them to find they were all pretending very unsuccessfully not to be watching. Well, it wasn’t the worst reaction.

“Roy, let’s head out,” he announced for their benefit. He added to Laurel, “There’s a changing room near the back you can use. I’ll try and get back here as soon as I can.”

“Alright. Stay safe out there.”

He touched her cheek and nodded once before managing to step away and join Roy at the stairs.

It wasn’t likely to be perfect. There was no telling what awaited them in the future. It was, as Laurel had said last night, a start.

But merely her memory had carried him through five years of Hell. The reality of her, of  _ them,  _ Oliver felt might just be enough to withstand anything.


End file.
